Third Front [TLIN & UFA]

[The BYD Corporation]

BYD Corporation, Third Tower, Central District
Office of the Supreme Director

Agalis Nevan, Global Operations Officer slammed both hands down upon the long, wide table in the central office as he stood up from his comfortable leather chair. Supreme Director, they've crossed the border! The mercenaries we've hired are engaging them, but it's only a matter of time before the Canini break through, and or the Harukians advance from their side! What do we do?! A chorus of voices followed as the Board became increasingly frantic at the idea of losing profits as well as worker assets to the threats from either side of the small country. That is until a stern voice grumped in clearing of ones throat and silence reigned supreme again as all faces turned towards the sound.

Supreme Director Thadius Mellin took stock of each officer of the Board present before speaking. We will not be alone in this endeavor to protect our land. The Takhisians are bringing a full force with them, and our own defense forces shall aide the mercenaries we hired. We only have to hold out against incursions, as long as our forces do not become proactive and or turtle minded, we shall survive this attempted hostile takeover.

He arose slowly, and absently stroked the front of his three piece suit a moment before glancing at the others as a servant of the interior circle poured a scotch on the rocks, the snifter glass eventually being settled into an outstretched hand. The time for panic is over. Our defense forces commander, Sub-Director Tharon and the Takhisian military commander are already devising ways for us to resist. He paused a moment. I will not sugar coat it, we will suffer losses. The assets will feel a pain, and our circles of influence will be tested by the hand of war. We as the officers of the Board, and the leaders of our corporation, must be strong, so that the assets can believe in us, and carry forth their efforts.

Again, Agalis Nevan arose. Though this time he looked composed, as if the Supreme Director had given him the means to focus. Sir, it's begun...He raised his arm and the center screen across from the table depicted the very scene most did not wish to see. Smoke and fire at the border, the glimpses of tracers during the day as the BYD Security forces and the Takhisian mercenaries held the border. Thadius simply observed for a moment before he spoke again. Move our assets to secure facilities, we must protect what powers the corporation. Several nods as fingers became busy, wireless headsets lit up with their tiny little LED lights and so forth.

The Corporate Nation at a glance

The Corporate state of BYD has nearly 1,490,000 residents. It includes many towers, multiple-story buildings and industrial installations and so on that cover an area slightly smaller than Rhode Island. The border really is just an area on either side of the country that has not been developed, or at least overly so. The corporation has always entertained the idea that the neighboring giants next to it would someday attempt a hostile take over to acquire the corporates assets and research discoveries. To this end the security forces were allotted a budget that allowed for the buildup of defensive structures and technologies to offer serious deterrence to a menacing threat.

The acquisition of Takhisian mercenaries to function as the nation's military was another well planned out purchase. The mercenaries being experienced soldiers, brought an array of talents and skills that the security forces would not have otherwise had time to learn and or even become proficient at. Thus the border was buttoned up very tightly, and at the first onset of hostilities from Canini, it became evident for that latter party that a swift victory was not going to be had.

Corporate Border Zone B

Senior Security Officer James O'Sona peered through a pair of high powered optics from his position. The outskirts of the first circle of influence, or city to outsiders, was near that of Zone B, a transit area for cargo containers on trucks and so on, the trade border with Canini. His spot was occupied by other security personnel, as well as members of the Takhisian Huukach Taalogekhec Taagelaan 88th corps were hunkered down, ready for a fight. Two incursions had already happened and a burning armored personnel carriers of a Canini convy was the end result. The Canini had fought to the last, and their bodies surrounded the vehicles and the metro station they had attempted to take.

The principal BYD Corporate city defense was the "defenseless defense." The Board in conjunction with it's military commanders had decided that it was better not to have strong points, but to remain totally mobile and hard to find.Some strong points did exist but were limited to hardened facilities built before the onset of hostilities, ie the border, to engage targets head-on.) Hit-and-run tactics would make it difficult for the Canini force to locate pockets of resistance and impossible to bring their overwhelming firepower to bear against an enemy force. Canini firepower would then be diluted as a result and could be used only piecemeal. BYDSF and Takhisian Huukach Taalogekhec Taagelaan mobile detachments composed of one to several vehicles transported supplies, weapons, and personnel easily throughout the cities.

The slaughter of the Canini 131st Brigade was a result of this tactic. Canini forces initially met no resistance when they crossed through Zone B towards the metro station at noon, the day of August the 16th. They drove their vehicles straight to the city center, dismounted, and took up positions inside the metro station. Other elements remained parked along a side street as a reserve force. Then the BYDSF and Takhisian Huukach Taalogekhec Taagelaan went to work. The Canini lead and rear vehicles on the side streets were destroyed. The unit was effectively trapped. The tanks couldn't lower their gun tubes far enough to shoot into basements or high enough to reach the tops of buildings, and the combined BYDSF - Takhisian Huukach Taalogekhec Taagelaan systematically destroyed the column from above and below with RPGs and grenades. At the train station, security personnel from other parts of Zone B converged on the station and surrounded it. The commander of the Canini unit waited until August 18th for reinforcements, but they never arrived. His unit was decimated as survivors were flushed out with a low level poison gas that induced vomiting and or loss of motor-nerve control.

The Takhisian senior NCO had said it was just a probe, and that the real army was still on it's way. There were probably more vanguard units to come.

[The Order of Takhisis]

The Huukach Taalogekhec Taagelaan

Spearhead of the Imperial Army, the Huukach Taalogekhec Taagelaan was created in 1131 AD and counted among its ranks many foreigners. Most came from poor or disadvantaged backgrounds and found refuge in the heart of the military. The legionnaires of the Huukach Taalogekhec Taagelaan served the nobility of the Takhisian Order, and for a time during the occupation the needs of the foreign powers that be. However in 1993 AD, it began a service beyond the Order's borders, becoming a state sponsored mercenary service.

The training of the Huukach Taalogekhec Taagelaan has often been cited as being ruthless and yet calculated, it drives the men and women who bear it's mark to know that they have surpassed all odds to become the spear, the advance guard of the Takhisian way of life. This was evident during a routine visit by League officers to a training facility. The captain supervising the morning rifle exercise had mastered the art of disciplining soldiers without wasting words. He was a former Knight, a quiet observer who gave the impression of depth and calm, partly because he spoke no more than a few sentences a day. After one of the marching drills, when a clumsy soldier dropped his rifle, the captain walked up to him and simply held out his fist, against which the soldier proceeded to bang his head.

After the soldiers returned to the compound they had a while to wait before dinner. In the dirt yard a slim, bullying sergeant barked them into a disciplined formation in a parade-rest stance: feet apart, eyes fixed forward, hands clasped behind their backs. Then the sky opened up. The men were drenched but did not care. In the winter they might have been less indifferent.

The rain stopped. The captain extinguished his cigarette. He spared precisely four words: “It is cocktail hour.” He walked across the compound, released the soldiers from formation, and led them through the barn to the back side, where the cocktails were being served. The cocktails were pull-ups and dips and a sequence of synchronized sit-ups punctuated by two brief rests during which the slim corporal strolled across the abdomens of the soldiers. Then it was run to the barn to wash, and run to a multi-purpose room to eat.

Before eating, the soldiers drank large field cups of water, and inverted the empty cups on their heads to demonstrate the achievement. An officer came in to observe them. He was the platoon commander, Boul, 36, a muscular man with a military bearing and an air of easy authority. Watching him watch the soldiers, the nearest League officer asked how the training was going. He answered that the boat was sinking normally. It was a figure of speech. He knew from experience that the soldier-recruits were doing well enough.

He had been barred from the regular Imperial Army because of troubles with the law when he was a teenager, and so had joined the Huukach Taalogekhec Taagelaan under the identity, initially, of a Ergothian Remnant. He had risen through the Huukach Taalogekhec Taagelaan’s ranks during a seventeen year career, most recently in Xul-Cryusia, where he had shown a particular aptitude for the jungle and had excelled in leading long patrols across some of the most difficult terrain imaginable, thriving in conditions that cause even strong men to decline. After two years there, on the hunt for Nocian commandos who were attempting to infiltrate from the shared border, Boul was reassigned to Neraka. It should have been a glorious homecoming, but just before leaving Xul-Cyrusia, Boul had roughed up a superior officer. For this he was being disciplined, and thus had been sent to Kabor, Karthay during the troop buildup.

Time enough to tell he told his counterparts, of what these troops would be like. The war he was going to was far from the shores of Karthay, the current killing ground. He noted with some amusement at the League officers from whatever army they happened to be representing as the transports came into view. Each one was as long as a ship of the line, but carried none of the armaments like such. Oh sure they had some pop cannons here and there, but they were meant for the usage of ferrying thousands of soldiers from point A to point B.

With the massive ships just overhead, their boarding ramps and elevators at the ground level, one could get a bird's eye view of them and he suspected thats what they had intended. In any case, he informed them that he had to go soon, but for the moment as it happened, it was time to begin loading. Signals from the transport crews had been arrived and his superiors were spreading the word as it were. Troops such as his set off in file through the heavy rain as it fell. They wore bulky packs, with assault rifles slung across their chests. Boul stood to one side as lead NCO's navigated at the head of the column. It was a slog, mostly on narrow roads through what remained of the port city of Kabor, towards the build up area.

Boul simply watched as it happened, standing next to other officers he didn't really know, but had orders to be tolerant of them because of the alliance. Still when one of them asked how he addressed the concerns of dying, soldiers often times brought that up, he simply exhaled a bit from his cigarette and replied. " I tell them all, at the same time. It’s like this. There is no point in trying to understand. Time is unimportant. We are dust from the stars. We are nothing at all. Whether you die at age 15 or 79, in a thousand years there is no significance to it. So fuck off with your worries about war.” He took a drag and then turned to look at his counterparts while soldiers trudged up the boarding ramps on all sides of their position. " Simplicity comrades, it's sometimes the best approach."

Twenty Hours Later

The Flagship is the Arwen took command of the reformed Second Fleet, thirty ships of the line and the rest being logistical support and troopships that swelled behind her. Commanding the Arwen was Lord of Host Tyru, an experienced battle officer that had served the Legions of Ariakan for nearly a decade in the position, and half that again as an officer prior to promotion. Battle hardened from the Nocian war, Tyru hailed from the Antarn province. An Ergothian Remnant territory that had been abandoned to the Takhisian's after the occupation ended.

He shared their physical traits, being around five-foot nine inches tall, hundred and seventy pounds, and of black hair and eyes. His skin tone was caramel in hue, and somewhat light at that. As a Remnant he was often times belittled, but that was only until those who did such found out his supreme loyalty and respect for the Order and the Ariakan Legion. He was indebted willingly to the lifestyle of the fleet and all those under his command.

As his second in command Buryl, came to a rest beside him, the taller man inclined his head forward and down some. " Sir, we have left Karthay and are thirty-eight hours away from our destination." Tyru nodded slowly to the other man's words. " Bring that half regiment officer, ehm..what was his name.." Buryl replied. " Boul, sir. Captain Boul. 77th Half Regiment, Huukach Taalogekhec Taagelaan. " Tyru nodded after a moment. " Yes, pardon my memory of the man, have him come to the bridge." Buryl nodded again and moved to issue orders. He hadnt seen Boul in years, but the man's detachment had boarded the flagship, and while the flagship didnt often carry troops, all the ships of the line had done so to relieve the pressure on the troop transports.

Smartly rapped knuckles rang on the door to the quarters that had been provided for to Boul and the obviously military ground officer opened the door to see a rather short petty officer. " Sir " began the petty officer. " You've been requested to the bridge." Boul nodded a bit, obviously expecting such at some point or another and adjusted the collar on the uniform he wore, which was the Huukach Taalogekhec Taagelaan elite combat harness and outfit that was a splash of grey, white and black. So as to blend in with urban environs such as the BYD Corporate land holdings.

He did leave his rifle behind though, just a side arm in place under the left arm and then up and away he went. The Arwen shared the same design features with most ships of the line, and he knew those fairly well. Though an older ship than what he'd last been carried into battle on, the Arwen was the predecessor for all others, so the originator basis was a known thing. He navigated without much aide from the petty officer who followed behind him, all the way to the bridge itself. After stepping off of the elevator, he came to a stop. Buryl!? Hell..this was a party now as he made a casual nod to the XO while throwing a salute towards the Lord of Host, he knew the man by the rank, if not personally. " Captain Boul, 77th Half Regiment as requested."

Tyru admitted to himself that this first meeting of the infantry officer, was someone he could like. He obviously knew Buryl as well, he'd have to talk to his second about the man some more perhaps. " Greetings Captain, sorry to get to business so soon, you are aware of where we are headed? " Boul nodded his head, letting his hand come to join the other at his waist. " BYD Corporate territories M'lord. Reinforcing Huukach Taalogekhec Taagelaan forces currently defending the area from hostile UFA forces inbound." Tyru nodded, Boul was well informed indeed. " Correct, we are going to make a landing at the Isle of Siddow, and you and your brothers and sisters will then proceed inwards towards the capitol to reinforce the lines of battle therein. Also, joined in this endeavor, will be foreign troops of whom we have also agreed to transport as well as their equipment and vehicles. "

" Eh..I've not seen them in action, only heard some tales from the soldiers that were at the beachhead. Strange that an officer of them isnt present though. " To which Buryl replied. " The transport was sent over to the troopship carrying said individual. They should be here soon enough. " Damnit Buryl, always throwing out shit like that, but his face didn't translate anything but a blank response. " Ah, well that'll be nice. Easier to coordinate I suppose. I'm just an officer of a half-regiment, but I'm guessing I'm going to be promoted, otherwise this is a really weird trip for me."

Tyru chuckled.." General Caris was right, you are quite blunt. But yes, you're being promoted, there are no experienced officers for this side of the world and your experiences in the Nocian war and skirmishes etc, has been evaluated. Congratulations on your promotion Colonel Boul. You are now the commanding officer of the ground forces serving the Huukach Taalogekhec Taagelaan."

" Holy..sh..I mean I accept my role with honor, loyalty and fidelity to the service and the corps." Boul quickly countered as Buryl handed him a small box, in it were the pips and the rank bar used by the Huukach Taalogekhec Taagelaan, and only they. As a man whom served in the knighthood, he simply stared at a rank that he once held, and now apparently held again. " Fuck me, he thought..this is either fate and some damn luck or I'm totally screwed. " When the Havebergen representative was aboard and present, he'd know which end of the stick it was going to be.

[The Batorys]

The impact of sleet felt like the sting of countless icy daggers. The misery of the weather had only increased with the wind now blowing the freezing rain nearly horizontally. The gusts buffeted the hulking vessels of the sky, and likely would have frustrated most pilots of aerial craft, but these were Takhisians, and so no doubt used to rather uncooperative weather. So, too, were the soldiers now boarding said transports, precariously making their way up the ramps. That wouldn't stop them from complaining, of course. Soldiers always did, there was somehow a fundamental need to gripe about things, even if only to pass the time. Despite the wet and the cold, though, they would endure the present conditions with ease. They called the Plains of Sorrow home, after all, so they knew what true cold was. Supposedly, the homeland of those who now took them aboard was similar in climate.

Last to board would be the tall, wiry woman who stood, unmindful of the weather, grey hair whipping to and fro in the wind, her faded uniform hanging slightly loose on her shoulders, where the crimson mark of High Fist, brand new, stood out on the washed out grey. Her grandchildren knew her as a kindly, generous old woman, with a warm smile, but said expression was absent from her face now, banished when she'd donned the attire of the Batory Imperial Army once more, the hard look in her icy eye a match to the cold surrounding her. Despite the changes wrought by age, said glare made Patch's familiar to those who knew her face from earlier days, either in person or from pictures. Memories came unbidden, of earlier times. Before her hair had gone grey, and had been much shorter... and when her face had possessed fewer lines... when she'd been a commander in a different army, avenging the deaths of over half of the army that she now commanded. The Eastern Rebellion, or at least, the most recent one. Hopefully the last one, at least for some time, the brutality both of the uprising and its annihilation too recent to have faded in the memories of those who survived, the horror still to visceral to bear repeating.

The 4th Army had been reinforced since then, obviously, its numbers bolstered with recruits, but until the muster, Patch had possessed some doubts if the wounds to the unit's collective spirit were capable of healing, worrying that they remained broken, the ascendancy of the 27th only adding salt. Such fears had been allayed, though, by what she'd seen when they were called together in Istengrad. Perhaps it took being commanded by one of their own, perhaps they'd found something else, remembered themselves, that they were Sarkany's own. A thousand years ago, the 4th Army had been instrumental in doubling, then tripling the size of the Empire. Past glories were only that, though, past. Now the soaked soldiers boarded ships of the sky to travel to their most distant campaign yet. Despite the long history of the Empire, its forays onto other continents were limited, and none had before fought in battles as far flung as that which these soldiers now journeyed to. Perhaps such would fuel the rivalry between this ancient army and the nascent 27th, though it was rumored that veterans of Sarkany's Wraiths served again within the latter. It was no matter, though, as long as said rivalry did not eclipse the anger towards the UFA and its pernicious head.

Equipment and such was loaded, and it appeared now that the light infantry were boarding, last, of course. Patch smirked at that. She'd been one of them, once. Still was, in some ways... though unlike them, she'd be bathing on this journey, her rank making her feel she no longer needed to take part in that particular tradition. A part of her felt sorry for any foreign troops who had to share the same transports as the mostly female light infantry, bizarre as their customs were. The High Fist herself was the last aboard, as was proper, her cane, an affectation used mainly for gesturing, as her legs were still quite good, clanking on the ramp. She supposed that she would be summoned to confer with the Takhisian officers or some such, eventually, but that could wait, for now.